Category: My stories

When the pandemic began, the CDC recommended that people wash their hands a lot.
20 seconds of scrubbing with soap and warm water to dislodge and kill the virus.
To get people to wash their hands for the full 20 seconds, some people sang handwashing songs.
Or recited poems that they liked.
Eventually, smartwatches detected the motion of handwashing and displayed encouraging messages or play handwashing music to keep them going for the full 20 seconds.
Then, when they were done, they’d grab a paper towel, dry their hands, and use the same bathroom doorknob all their infected coworkers used.

It’s the end of the day, and we’ve ridden all the rides we’ll ride, eaten all the food we’ll eat, and hugged all the walking characters we’ll hug.
The streetlights go dark, we take spots along the main street.
And then… fireworks fill the sky, and music fills our ears.
The streetlights come up, and the loudspeakers thank us for coming.
And hope we’ve had a magical time.
Please proceed to the exits.
Back to the car.
Back to the hotel.
Back to the airport.
Back home.
But when we sleep, we dream of the fireworks.
And the magic returns.

Back in middle school, we used Scantron cards for taking multiple choice tests.
You had to use a number two pencil to mark the boxes.
The teacher would collect up the cards, run the answer key through the machine, and then run each card.
The more answers the student got wrong, the louder the machine got, stamping the errors.
Being a smart kid, my card went through quietly.
But the dumb kids’ cards provoked angry rattles from the machine.
One kid was so dumb, the machine started to smoke, and it shook itself off of the table.
And caught fire.

Long ago, I worked at a tv station that required every office to have a television and have it tuned to the station.
So, I had a TV put in my office, tuned it to the station, and took it apart.
The pieces were all tossed into a corner.
When the general manager came by, he said that wasn’t what he meant.
Another TV was brought in, plugged in, and turned on.
So, I turned it to face the wall, opened the case, and cut the speaker wires.
The general manager saw that, too, but gave up on the bullshit.

They say that Beethoven’s father would drag him to the piano to play.
And he forced the boy to play the violin for his drunken friends.
As Beethoven grew, he learned more instruments.
Until there were no more to play.
He’d get out his tools and build bizarre contraptions and hand them to his son and yell PLAY THIS!
Or while walking down the street, he would grab random things… squirrels, apples, glass pitchers, and clumps of dirt.
PLAY THIS! PLAY THIS! PLAY THIS!
Until, one day, he dropped dead.
Beethoven beat his father’s corpse like a drum and laughed.

They say that one day, all the dogs who have ever loved us will come running towards us in Heaven.
I loved Sparky. Such a good dog.
But after he got bit by that raccoon, he turned bad with rabies.
I saw him there in the street, foaming at the mouth.
And I knew I had to put him down.
I got my shotgun down from the rack, called to Sparky, and he came running towards me.
I never cried so much.
Maybe I’ll see Sparky in Heaven.
I hope they cure the rabies.
Or I’ll put him down again.

In Hollywood, today’s waiter can be tomorrow’s star.
The day after he won an Oscar, Bob went to his favorite restaurant.
Bob was served by Elie, who thirty years later won an Emmy.
Elie was served by Ricardo, who ten years later signed on for a top-rated sitcom that lasted eight years.
Ricardo was served by Beth, who twenty years later made it big on Broadway.
Beth was served by ZX-72, which was a robotic food service unit.
ZX-72 never made it big anywhere. Because it was a robotic food service unit, not an actor.
But it made good tips.

Imperial Law is pretty clear about terraforming.
Don’t do it to inhabited worlds.
Of course, the definition of inhabited is a bit vague.
Intelligent life? Animal life? Any life at all, including viruses or bacteria?
The standards keep changing with every overcrowded and exhausted world looking for living space and resources.
Including the Galactic Empire World, which is constantly on the verge of collapse.
So, these days, the definition is simple:
Any world that can raise enough of a bribe to get itself off of the list of terraforming.
And get another less-rich world to take its place as victim.

Nothing lasts forever.
Except for things that last forever.
You won’t last forever.
A person who plays the oboe doesn’t last forever.
Neither does the oboe they play last forever.
The chair an oboist sits in won’t last forever.
But the chair in a symphony will last forever.
And when you sponsor it, your name will last forever.
In a way, you’ll last forever.
But then, the symphony won’t last forever, will it?
Better sponsor every oboe chair in every symphony in the world.
Cover them all.
A monopoly on the oboes for all time.
A monopoboly? Monopoloboey?
Sounds cool.

I’m waiting for the new video cards to become available.
Sure, they’re been released by the manufacturer, but everybody wants these cards.
So, anywhere they appear, they become unavailable quickly.
Bots and scalpers and resellers.
Buying all the cards up.
Some stores, they only let you buy them in person.
But they use bent and crooked methods.
Like handing out line vouchers to friends and family.
Until the factories ramp up production and the distributors meet demand, there’s no point, really.
Just wait them out… until the next generation is available.
And this shit happens all over again… and again.